


On the Care of Injured Werewolves

by flight815kitsune



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Pack, Sickfic, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flight815kitsune/pseuds/flight815kitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the real world, wolves don't care for an ailing packmate alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Care of Injured Werewolves

**Author's Note:**

> Just a stupid little thing that came about because Peter is a manipulative little shit, but I feel like he knows what he’s talking about when it comes to ~magic~. He just knew Derek would take it on alone. I just wish it had turned out like this.

 

Derek was an Alpha. And yeah, Cora was pack and he would give anything to protect her. He would trade his life for hers in a heartbeat. Power was nothing. He would bear the burden alone if he had to.

Thing was, wolves didn’t bear the burden alone.

 

Derek held his sister’s hand. He had tried to tell Scott that he would do this. Scott had argued. And not in the way Peter had argued. There was honest concern. Stiles had taken Scott’s phone and announced that they would be over soon. The Jeep had shown up packed with people a short time later.

Peter was vague as to if this would actually work, but it couldn’t hurt.

They were setting up a perimeter when she stopped breathing. It seemed like only luck had gotten her started again. He had to hold her hand to keep his hand from shaking. Just a little longer. Just a few more minutes and he’d be able to fix this instead of just ruining something again.

Lydia was on lookout, surveying the entire scene. If someone came, her voice would carry.

The next line of defense was Allison. Her gadgets made a perfect trap. Even is something made it through those, she was there. Hunters, Alphas, Druids of various alignments? A few arrows followed by a machete between the chin and shoulder would stop all of them the same.

The last line of defense was a line drawn in ash and a kid with a gun he shouldn’t have.

All just to give them a chance.

Scott took her other hand. Peter touched his niece’s ankle while Isaac mirrored his position from his spot next to Scott.

They all looked to Derek. He exhaled slowly. This would hurt. With a nod, he took her pain.

It was like his veins were filled with fire, overwhelming and all-consuming.

Then, it fades.

Oh, it still hurt, but it was bearable. They had managed to split it between them.

Time dragged and there was little to do besides stare at the door and listen to the silence.

 

Isaac gave a shaky breath and the pain spiked.

“Sorry.” He wiped his face with his sleeve before returning to position.

 

She could breathe.

 

There were hands on her, she was trapped. She had to get away-

The fingers intertwined with hers squeezed.

When she opened her eyes, she was surrounded.

It was Derek who squeezed her hand. Peter was beside him. Scott’s thumb was running across her knuckles. Isaac’s grip was too tight. They were all staring at the door, at Stiles.

Stiles glanced over and his face lit up when their eyes met. Everyone’s eyes go to her.

Peter’s are blue. Isaac’s are gold and his face is blotchy. Scotts are walking the fine line between orange and red. Derek’s are red, but more importantly they are _smiling_.

If it weren’t for the suddenly overwhelming nausea, she’d comment on that.

As it was, she was just grateful that Stiles had recognized her expression for what it was and scrambled for the trashcan. And that it had a bag in it. And that Scott got pushed to the side.

Puking on guys, pack or not, was never part of the plan.

The red liquid that may or may not be blood wasn’t good, but it was much better than inky black.

 

Derek switched hands so he could rub her back.

 

The feeling faded and she handed the trash can off. Stiles took it with a grumble of “Why does the human get puke bucket duty?”

 

Isaac was the first to let go. Peter followed a short time later.

Scott sent a text as soon as he got his hand back.

 

Stiles broke the line so that she could use the bathroom.

 

When she came back, Scott was clapping Isaac on the shoulder, Stiles was gesturing to Peter in their conversation, and Allison and Lydia looked proud. Derek was relaxed and happy.

They looked like a pack.

They _were_ a pack.

And they could face anything the world threw at them. 


End file.
